


A Celebratory Reunion

by bossxtweed



Series: A Study in Time Lord Parenting [4]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Family, half angst half fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24618274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bossxtweed/pseuds/bossxtweed
Summary: The Master had lost their daughter and after a certain point, they resigned themself to the fact that they would never see her again.That is, until a chance encounter on the girl's tenth birthday.
Relationships: Missy & Genevieve
Series: A Study in Time Lord Parenting [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776127
Kudos: 13





	A Celebratory Reunion

As a parent, the Master hadn’t always done their best, letting migraines and schemes get in their way, but with the proper help they had  _ tried  _ to do better by Genevieve. She had been so  **_little_ ** when they first held her in their arms, dancing around in a post-regeneration haze, singing in a voice they weren’t used to yet.

She was  _ still  _ little when their boss received an offer he couldn’t refuse, and the girl had been ripped from their arms and brought to a cold, dark building for testing. What they were looking for, they never found.

Seven years passed and the Master, by then rebranded as the Mistress. pushed on, keeping her daughter’s doll in the pocket of her dress at all times (except, of course, when she slept---then she held it in her arms).

Genevieve was turning ten, and Torchwood (now under direction of one Captain Jack Harkness) had ended its contract with the Mistress’ former employer on the grounds of ethical concerns.

Ten years old and living on the streets, having run from her foster family. She couldn’t trust them---or  _ anyone,  _ really---and she supported herself by pickpocketing (something which had come naturally to her). 

With her gaze locked on the ground and her hands buried deep in her jacket pockets (to prevent herself from falling prey to a wandering hand), she bumps into the back of a man dressed all in purple with plaid pants and leather shoes and a fancy jacket. She braces herself as he whirls around, expecting him to yell and hit her (as men of the upper class so often did), but fury lasts only a moment in his troubled eyes as he regards her.

“I---I’m sorry, sir,” she breathes, folding her hands in front of herself. “I---I wasn’t looking where I was going, but I--I’ll try better next time…” 

_ She’s just a little girl,  _ he thinks,  _ and accidents happen. _

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a curiously shaped device which buzzes as he sweeps his arm over the area. “Huh,” he breathes, slipping the device back into his pocket. “1890. You’re---what? 10?”

Nervously the girl replies, “y--yes. Today’s my birthday, actually.”

“Is that so? Funny, that,” he swallows back a wave of fear, thinking,  _ she could merely be someone who  _ **_looks like_ ** _ her, born on the same day… _

“Sorry?” the girl asks.

“Name,” he blurts, “your name---”

She stares at the ground for a long moment before whispering, “Genevieve, sir.”

_ Oh.  _ His hearts beat frantically in his ears and his breath catches in his throat. “W--why are you on the street? Shouldn’t you be at home, celebrating with your family? Ten’s a  _ massive  _ milestone.” 

She shakes her head. “No, I---I haven’t got any family. There  _ was  _ my mum, but we were separated when I was little.”

_ Breathe,  _ he tells himself.  _ Breathe. You---you were reunited with her on her birthday, remember? When she was ten. Dressed like a street urchin, her dark curls tucked under that striped cap, unable to meet your gaze… _

“I---Genevieve,” he rubs at the scruff on his chin. “I know your mum, and---if you’d like---I can take you to her.”

Genevieve quirks a brow and takes a step back, taking him in, weighing whether or not she could trust him. Other people had before tried to tell her they knew her mum, and all of them had held bad intentions---she’d broken the nose of the last man who had grabbed her roughly by the arm before kicking him in the groin, picking his pocket, and running off.

“I know it must seem impossible to you; I imagine a  _ lot  _ of people have told you that--- _ bad  _ people who only wished you harm---but look into my eyes,” tears had started to form in his weary eyes, “and tell me: do you think I’m lying?”

Her hazel eyes meet his brown ones and his bypass kicks in as the seconds tick by.

Finally, she smiles, having seen something familiar in his gaze. “Y’  **_really_ ** know m’ mum?”

“Yes! She’s a relative of mine. And she’s been looking for you, Geni. She’s never stopped.”  **_I_ ** _ never stopped.  _

He holds out a hand and she takes it, letting him lead her to the outskirts of the city where stands an anachronistic phone box (its exterior a bright  _ purple  _ rather than the familiar red of later Britain, to make it more easily identifiable), and he draws the key from his pocket before turning to her and saying, “now, this will be somewhat of a  _ shock,  _ but a good one, I think. Like when you wake up early and realize you have a few more hours to sleep before you go about your day, so you curl up under the covers---”

“I wouldn’t know what that’s like, sir.”

_ She doesn’t know who I am,  _ he thinks sadly, dropping her hand to open the door.  _ Would she understand if I told her the truth? Or would that be too painful, having her know two versions of me? It’d be  _ **_messy,_ ** _ to say the least.  _

He pushes open the door to reveal a large room bathed in purple light with technology the likes of which Genevieve had never before seen, round wall decorations reaching from floor to ceiling, and throughout the room reverberates a gentle hum.

She gasps, darts forward, and whirls around, her eyes wide at the sight. “But---but----!”

“I know--- _bigger on the inside._ An entire **_dimension_** enclosed in an outer casing, able to move through time and space like a boat in water! But wait,” he smiles at her before setting the coordinates (if memory served correctly) for a forest clearing in Scotland, sometime in the early 21st Century (she had wanted _so badly_ to visit the Doctor, to talk to him about what was bothering her, to mourn their lost children and perhaps have a drink or two in their honor). “Brace yourself on the railing there,” he motions towards it, “and hold on tight. I think you’ll **_love_** this!”

He sends his ship whirling through the vortex, leaving the breaks on for the full effect (though he notes how Genevieve recoils at the noise, burying one ear in her shoulder and covering the other with her hand), and she falls heavily to the floor once they land. Frantically he rushes to help her, saying, “are y’ alright? I--I didn’t mean for you to get hurt, are you---”

She wipes away tears with one fist and without meeting his gaze responds, “y--yeah. ‘m fine. Wha’s happened?”

He tentatively holds a hand out towards her. “We, Genevieve, have just moved through Time and Space, and  _ now  _ we’re in  _ Scotland.”  _

She takes his hand and he helps her stand.

“Scotland?” 

“Yeah. It’s where your mum is---do you trust me?”

She doesn’t answer for a long while. With each second he feels stronger the urge to confess then and there, though he knew she would have every reason to doubt him (unless he could convince her to open the watch stashed in her teddy bear, and even  _ then  _ she would only have more questions than he could reasonably (or comfortably) answer), and he releases a breath as she nods.

“Yes, but---I’m scared. Mum didn’t have me very long, and---and----what if she sends me away?” 

“No,” he pulls her into a tight hug, “no, Geni. You’ve got to trust me---she’ll be  **_thrilled_ ** to see you again. It’s all I----all  _ she  _ has ever wanted. In fact, she sent me to find you.” 

“Y’ never told me your name,” she chides after pulling back. “Who am I supposed to say brought me back to her?”

“Theta,” he breathes. “I’m your uncle Theta. Now, right outside you’ll find yourself in a clearing, and directly across from my ship will be a  _ tree  _ with  **_purple_ ** apples. Go to it and knock on the bark.”

She tilts her head and asks, “why? Is her ship a  **_tree?!”_ **

“Well, not  _ always.  _ It’s a way for the ship to hide itself by becoming something that’ll easily blend into the background.”

Doubt creeps into her expression as she remarks, “but  _ yours  _ was a ‘phone booth’----and I’ve  _ never  _ seen one of those before!”

Leading her to the door, he concedes, “yeah, that was a  _ bit  _ anachronistic, but it worked in a pinch.”

She hesitates at the door. “Thank you,” she breathes, “I’ll tell mum you brought me here.” 

She pushes open the door and is about to step out when the Master calls, “Genevieve, love. Give me back what you took from my pocket.”

Sighing, she whirls around and places it in his expectant palm. “Dunno what it is, anyways, other than some sort of machine.”

“Go to your mum,” he says, “she’ll probably have some variant of this you could play with----but  _ only  _ when you're older.” He could only imagine the chaos of his little girl playing with the TCE and accidentally shrinking living beings, creating a mess for her mum to clean up. 

“Thanks again,” she tells him, turning around to leave. “You’re a very nice man.” 

_ I’ll see you later,  _ he thinks, watching as she approaches the aforementioned tree and knocks on the bark. Before Missy answers, Genevieve turns around, hoping to wave goodbye, only the Master’s TARDIS is gone, leaving behind only a faint impression where it had disturbed the soil. 

“Hello?” a white woman, dressed in ornately purple clothing and standing in the doorway which appears in the tree bark out of nowhere, asks. “I’m  _ very  _ busy at the moment, so whatever you want, it---”

“Mum?” Genevieve cuts in. “I---Uncle Theta brought me here, told me to knock and that you were expecting me….”

“Ah. Yes.” It takes a moment for realization to dawn on Missy, and once it does, she exclaims, “Geni?!” a sob escapes her as she falls to her knees. “Oh, my love, my love…” she pulls the little girl into her arms, holds her tight like she’d meant to all those years ago, and she whispers words in a foreign tongue which raise the hairs on the back of Geni’s neck.

“Mum?” she repeats, having wrapped her arms around the woman. “Are y’ alright?”

Missy pulls back, wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand, stands, and says, “yes, love. I’m alright. Come in, come in! We can have  _ cake  _ and  _ ice cream  _ to celebrate!” 

“Y’ remembered?” Genevieve asks.

“I never forgot, love,” she states softly. “You were always  _ right here,”  _ she points at her chest, “near and dear to my hearts.”

She holds her hand out and leads Genevieve into the TARDIS’ interior.


End file.
